CHAPTER ELEVEN.
NED SEES SOMETHING.
"No luck yet, Griggs," said the doctor, riding up to the head of thelittle caravan one morning, after many, many days of travel since theparty made its first plunge into the unknown, untraversed wilds, to keeptrudging on at the rate dictated by the mules, which, laden as theywere, could not be hurried. Sometimes when the track they made forthemselves was easy and level a good many miles were got over; at othersthe hindrances seemed to multiply, and Griggs laughingly said it neverrained but it poured, and then the tale of miles traversed became veryfew at the end of the day.
But the American worked harder than any one, and always with unfailinggood-humour. There were times when he seemed to be furious, raging outin language especially his own, the vocabulary being wonderful, thenames he called astounding in their fluency, novelty, and peculiarity;still the objects of these displays of temper were never hisfellow-travellers, but the mules, and as soon as he had roared himselfhoarse he stood wiping his perspiring face, smiling contentedly, to sayto one, the other, or both of the boys, "I feel a deal better for havinggot rid of all that nasty stuff. It kinder eases my mind, youngsters,and now look at 'em," he continued, pointing at his obstinate charges;"see how nicely they go. Don't you ever tell me that mules have nobrains. Look at Skeeter, how he's listening to my voice, and you wait amoment and you'll see him begin working those ears of his about. There,do you see? That's his way of telegraphing his opinions about what hehas heard to all the rest. There's a deal more in mules than peoplethink."
Be this right or wrong, the baggage-carrying animals did their best whenGriggs was near them, and a few absurd words from his powerful lungsstopped kicking, biting, and squealing when a revolution seemed to be onthe way, and a fight of heels had begun, to the imminent risk ofdisaster to the packs.
"No luck yet, sir?" cried Griggs, when the doctor had spoken on thatparticular morning. "Why, I was just thinking how lucky we had been."
"How?" said the doctor, and the boys pricked up their ears to listen tothe conversation.
"Haven't lost a mule; always got over some of the ground to bring usnearer to the place we're looking for; and the way in which we areenjoying ourselves in this compound frolic of a picnic is wonderful."
"Enjoying, eh? Well, I'm glad you take it so."
"Oh, I think we're been wonderfully lucky, seeing what might havehappened."
"Do you hear, boys?" said the doctor. "That's the spirit to take ourjourney in. But look here, Griggs, we've been trenching too much on ourstores, and that's bad."
"The mules don't think so, sir," said the American, laughing; "but as wecan't buy fresh, going on in this way, perhaps we had better be on thelookout a little more for the pot, and leave the stores as much alone aswe can."
"Yes," said the doctor. "I say, don't let anything eatable go by. Bythe way, you're deviating a little from the course we laid down thismorning."
"Just a little, sir," replied Griggs. "It was Skeeter's doing."
"Oh, I did not know that the mule took the lead."
"He doesn't always, sir, but sometimes he stops short, lifts up thatmuzzle of his, lays his ears flat down, and sings one of those pleasantlittle airs of his; and when he does that I've noticed more than oncethat it means he smells water somewhere. So this time when he snappedat a fly trying to lay eggs in his skin, and bore off a little to theleft, I didn't interfere."
"But the lookout forward does not seem promising," said the doctor,raising his double glass to his eyes and sweeping the horizon.
"No, sir, it looks like warm stuff out of the kegs to-night, and none tospare for a wash."
"I'm afraid so," said the doctor, closing his glass and drawing rein soas to let Wilton and Bourne close up. "Tired, Chris--Ned?"
"Oh no," they replied.
"It's soon in the day yet, father," added Chris.
"That seems a pity about the water, Griggs," said Ned, as they roseslowly on. "Oh how I should like a good swim in a clear river!"
"Wouldn't be amiss; but when you can't get beef, mutton ain't bad."
"I knew that," said Chris dryly.
"But you don't seem to know that when you can't get plenty of water forbathing, nice clean sand isn't a bad thing for a good dry wash. It'sbetter without soap too."
Chris laughed.
"Ah, you may grin, but it's a nasty habit, I think, that of rubbinggrease turned into what you call soap all over your skin. Look yonderon that patch of sand," he continued, pointing, for his keen eyes seemedto miss nothing.
"Snakes!" cried Chris, bringing his rifle sharply round.
"Nay, nay, don't shoot. What's the good? You might scare somethingbetter."
"Better!" said Ned, with his upper lip curling up and the corners of hismouth going down.
"Yes; I don't care about snake," said the American dryly, "but I hevheard that some of the Injuns cut the rattlers' heads off and roast themin wood-ashes, and that they're uncommonly good."
"Ugh!" ejaculated Ned.
"Yes, that's just how I feel, my lad," continued Griggs, in his calm,dry manner. "I'm like that countryman of mine who was hard up for tuck,out in the backwoods, and when some one asked him afterwards how hemanaged to live, he said he shot and cooked the crows."
"Horrid!" cried Ned.
"Yes, that's what t'other one said; and then he says, `But surely youdon't like crows?' `No,' says the first one, `I don't kind o' hankerarter them.' It's the same here, I don't kind o' hanker arter snake;but it's all a matter o' habit."
"Oh, ugh!" cried Ned.
"Ah, you may say ugh, but it all depends; when a fellow's hungry he'sgot to eat something, and I don't see why a snake shouldn't be as goodto eat as an eel."
"But they're poisonous," cried Chris.
"Only in the head, and it's easy to cut that off. Now, look yonder;there lie four fine fat rattlers, fast asleep on that patch of sand.We're not exactly short of food, but a little extra would be veryuseful, and as rattlers are so plentiful it seems almost a pity that wecan't make them good to eat, and knock over all we come across."
"How can you talk in that horrid way, Griggs!" cried Chris, with ashudder.
"I don't see nothing horrid about it. Snake's a nice clean enough sortof thing; and, as I say, it's all a matter of habit. They tell me frogsare delicious, but I'd as soon eat snake."
"Reptiles! Ugh!" cried Ned.
"So's turtle reptile," said Griggs. "Nasty-looking thing too. Mightjust as well eat alligator. I've a good mind to get down and crippletwo or three of those rattlers, so as to try how they eat."
"No, no, don't!" cried the boys in a breath, and before the othersgrasped what he was about to do, Chris pulled up, slipped off hismustang, gathered up a handful of small stones, and sent a showeramongst the sleeping reptiles.
In an instant there was a scattering of sand and a rush for safety, thesnakes taking refuge amongst the brush around, leaving not a sign oftheir presence.
"There goes dinner for six," said Griggs dryly. "I say, there's plentyof those creeping gentry about here."
"Almost the only inhabitants," said Chris. "Well, if we do have to cometo eat 'em, perhaps we shall get monuments set up to us in our honourfor introducing a new kind of useful food of which there's plenty beingwasted in the far west. Pity they're so small. They'd shrink too inthe cooking. Why, a hungry man would be able to polish off one easy."
"Do you want to make me ill, Griggs?" said Ned, shuddering.
"Certainly not, my lad."
"But I say, Griggs," cried Chris, "how big do those things grow--howlong were the largest you ever saw?"
"Oh, they don't come quite up to boa constrictors. Let me see, thelargest I ever saw measured was--was--"
"Twenty-five feet?"
"Nay, nay, nay, not quite as long as that, but quite six feet, which isbigger than I like, after all. Most of 'em's little, like those.Dangerous sort of things, and don't the horses and mules understand!Don't catch
them going near a rattler if they know it."
"My nag has shied four times this morning at the poisonous brutes," saidChris.
"Seems to me," said Griggs, "that they like this part of the country.I'd be pretty careful about walking about when we get down. It'd be aswell to ride about a bit when we stop for camping, so as to scare thebeggars away. We don't want to get bitten."
But from that time, oddly enough, they saw no sign or trace of thereptiles. The sun grew hotter and hotter, but neither in sandy levelnor rugged stony patch was a snake seen basking. Nothing was visiblebut lizards, and they disappeared when the doctor called a halt in themost rugged part of a stony waste where there was an overhanging cliffand a broken gully which promised at a distance to be the home of aspring; but though it had evidently been at one time a pool overhung byrocks, there was not a trace of moisture. It afforded a little shelter,however, in an overhanging part where there was a rugged projectingshelf, and there being nothing better, the halt was made there, only toprove too hot a one for endurance, the rocks seeming to glow, andkeeping off such air as was astir as well as the sun; so after a shorttime the doctor decided to go on once more in search of some more likelyplace.
In those hot, weary hours the elasticity and cheerfulness of the boysdied away. In the early morning it had been all laugh and chat andnotice of everything they passed that seemed novel, but with the comingof noon quite a change came over them, and Ned took to sighing from timeto time, then to murmuring, and at last after a long, low expiration ofthe breath--
"Oh dear," he cried, "I am getting so tired of this!"
"Well, you are a fellow!" grumbled Chris. "Only an hour or two ago youtalked as if you liked it."
"Ah, I wasn't so hot and fagged out then. It gets so jolly monotonous.Here we go on, ride and tramp, ride and tramp, day after day, seeingnothing but sand and sage-brush, sand and sage-brush. Always tired,always being scorched by the sun till one's giddy, and--"
"Here, father!" cried Chris, but without turning his head.
"What are you going to do?" said Ned, in a hurried whisper.
"Call father up, for you to grumble to him."
"Nonsense!" whispered Ned. "Don't be a stupid donkey. Can't I say aword or two without you wanting to tell tales?"
"I don't want to tell tales; I want for you to tell father yourself.You talked as if you had had enough of it, and wanted to go back."
"Who wants to go back?" cried Ned angrily. "Nice thing if one can't saywhat one likes about one's feelings! I only said what I did because Iwas hot and tired, and it is so tiresome, one day just like another, andnot a bit of adventure to go through. Why, I expected no end of fun inthat way--I mean, no end of excitement."
"Do you understand what he means, Griggs?" said Chris. "I think you'veupset him by talking about cooking and eating snake."
"It wasn't that," said Griggs. "He must have got out of bed the wrongway this morning."
"Yes; a nice sort of bed! Nothing but rough sage-brush, crumbling up assoon as it's moved, and looking like so much gritty imitation tea."
"Same sort of bed as we had, squire, and we don't grumble. Why, you'renot half a fellow. Like to go back perhaps?"
"That I shouldn't!" snapped out Ned, so suddenly that his mustangstarted and had to be checked and soothed. "Can't a fellow speak? Idon't want to grumble, but it is so monotonous."
"You said that before," cried Chris banteringly.
"I know, Clevershakes!" retorted Ned. "And now I say it again. I've asgood a right to speak as you have. If you don't like the wordmonotonous, I'll say dull and stupid. It's ride and walk, ride andwalk."
"And walk and ride, walk and ride," said Chris, imitating his oldcompanion's words and tones. "No adventures--nothing to see."
"Not even a rattlesnake," said Griggs softly.
"Look here, Mr Griggs," snapped out Ned, "I wish you wouldn't keepinterrupting me when I'm speaking. It's precious rude."
"I beg your pardon, sir," said Griggs politely.
"Well, don't do it again," said Ned shortly.--"Phew! How hot it is!I'm sure it's ever so much hotter than it has been before."
"Much," said Chris, with his eyes twinkling, but he looked straightbefore him. So did Griggs, and Ned went on--
"It's just as if the sand got to be red-hot and all the heat wasreflected back in one's face. I wouldn't care, though, only it's sodull and monot--dreary!" the boy snapped out, looking sharply from oneto the other as if to see whether another remark was about to be maderespecting his repetition; but neither of his companions moved a muscleof his face, and he went on murmuring in the same irritable way--
"There seem to be no fish to catch, no birds to shoot. I wouldn't havebelieved that there could have been so much miserable desert if I hadn'tseen it. I quite thought that by this time, after getting right awayfrom all settlements and into the wildest of the wild country--"
"What!" said Griggs sharply. "Oh, nonsense! Wildest of the wild? Why,this is nothing to what we've got to come. We haven't seen a regulargood mountain yet."
"No, nor yet a wild beast. I thought we should have had plenty ofadventures with them by now."
"Oh, that's what you mean, is it?" cried Griggs, with mock seriousness,giving Chris a peculiar look at the same time, as if asking him to backup any assertions that he might make. "You expected that we would spendhalf our time shooting lions and stalking tigers?"
"Yes," said Ned, passing his hand over his eyes and shaking his head, asif the heat had made him sleepy and giddy. "_No, no_!" he addedhastily. "Of course I know that there are no lions and tigers here.You're laughing at me."
"Well, it's enough to make a cat laugh to hear you go on finding fault,when here we are in a regular wonderful country, such as I should neverhave expected to find so soon. Of course I know that it wouldn't do fora plantation, but here we are, just at the beginning of rising ground,and a mile or two further we shall be all amongst rocks and stones, and,for all we can tell, we shall come upon the sugar up yonder among thosemountains rising up as if they were growing out of what was a plain."
"Sugar? What sugar?" said Ned, staring.
"Well, the gold amongst the three sugar-loaf mountains shown on thechart."
"I only wish we could find it," said Chris.
"Well, have patience, and the more patience you use up the more you'llwant. We shan't find the gold without."
"But I'm like Ned," said Chris thoughtfully; "I think as he does, thatit does seem wonderful that there should be such a lot of regularlyuseless land in the world. Look at this: as far as we can see it's sosalt and dry that nothing will grow. Stones and sand, and sand andstones, and all of no use at all."
"Who says so?" said Griggs coolly.
"Why, I do; you heard me."
"Yes, you say so, but what do you know about it? You say it's of no usebecause it's of no use to you; but you know nothing at all about whatmay be underneath all this sand and stone."
"Nothing at all; not even water," cried Chris.
"You don't know. There may be gold or silver or lead, tin or copper, orsome of those minerals that chemists and such folk use. I don't like tohear you grumble, my lad, about things when you've only just looked andnot tried. What about precious stones--diamonds and rubies?"
"Or pearls perhaps," said Ned, with a sneer.
"Yes, or pearls," said Griggs, and the boys both burst out laughingheartily.
Ned's tide of ill-humour had turned.
"Got me?" said Griggs gravely. "I say, you are clever ones!"
"Well, I like to hear you make a blunder sometimes, Griggs. You oftenhave the laugh at us; now we've got one at you."
"Yes, you are clever ones," said the American grimly, "but you're wrongthis time. You're both grinning and looking at one another as much asto say, Hark at old Griggs! He's forgotten that pearls come out ofoysters and oysters live in the sea."
"Of course," cried the boys together.
"Yes, of course, and
I don't know that there mayn't be fossil oystershells somewhere about here with pearls still in them. I've seen shellssometimes looking quite pearly inside though they've been buried in rockno end of time. You didn't hear your father say only day beforeyesterday that all this salt desert land must at one time have been thebottom of the sea. What do you say to that?"
"Oh!" said Chris thoughtfully, and Ned pushed his broad-leaved hat alittle on one side so as to scratch his ear.
"You're right, though, after all, about lions and tigers, and so was I.Only they're American lions and tigers--pumas and jaguars, and pumaswithout any manes, and jaguars with spots instead of stripes. Wait abit, and we shall come upon some of them. Not here, though; it's notlikely sort of country for them, but there's mountain land yonderpiled-up higher than we shall be able to take our mustangs and mules.We shall find watercourses soon, and that means trees and grass andquite a different climate. The sort of place where we're quite likelyto find Uncle Ephraim at home."
"What, grizzly bear?" cried Chris excitedly.
"That's the gentleman," replied Griggs; "and as like as not aftercrossing a ridge or two we may come upon buffalo."
"What, in the mountains?"
"Perhaps. More likely in the plains. There, don't you chaps grumbleany more. Your fathers have got quite enough to think about withouthaving to talk to you about being a little more plucky and patient."
"Yes, I know," cried Chris, wincing; "we're only grumbling to you."
"Oh, then I don't matter?"
"Not a bit. You're such a good-tempered, patient chap, and you seemlike one of us. But I say, Griggs, do you really think we are going tofind a change in the country soon?"
"Certain."
"Oh come, that's better! We have had enough of sand and sage-brush, andwe do want a regular change."
"You'll get it, then, and I dare say before night. Can't you see thatwe're on the slope of the mountains now?"
"No, not a bit of it."
"But we are; just slowly rising, and by night we shall find that we arein quite a different place, hundreds of feet higher than where we hadbreakfast this morning."
"Well, I hope you're right," said Chris.
No more was said then, the two boys sometimes riding, sometimes walking,till after some hours Griggs pulled up, to point to the fact that theyhad reached what seemed to be the summit of an enormous land-wave heavedup and rising for miles either way across the desert, but right in frontdescending slowly into a vast hollow plain which glistened in itsdesolation as if frosted with silver.
"Why, it must be silver," cried Ned enthusiastically.
"Nay, nay, only salt, my lad. Looks like a dried-up lake."
"Yes; where's your herd of buffaloes?" cried Chris. "Oh, shouldn't Ilike for us to shoot one and have some beef!"
"Yes; buffalo hump isn't bad," said Griggs. "It's rich and tender andgravyish."
"But where is it?" said Ned.
"Higher up, I suppose, where there's prairie-land and grass. You don'texpect to see buffler where there's nothing to graze on, do you? Lookat the stones, though. Regular rocky ridges rising up one above theother on the other side of that frosty lake part. Shouldn't wonder ifwe found something fresh there."
He pointed to his left, where there was a manifest change in the sceneryas seen through the shimmering haze which hindered the view.
"Yes," he cried eagerly, "if you look hard you can just get a glimpse ofa great ridge, and just beyond--_ragh_! There are the mountains atlast!"
"I can't see them," said Chris thoughtfully. "Are they near?"
"No; but near enough for us to reach to-morrow night."
"But what about to-night? I say, that isn't salt. I can see itglittering quite plainly; it's water."
"No, my lad; no water there. I wish there was," added Griggs tohimself.
"Then what are we to do for water to-night?"
"There'll be enough to make our tea."
"But the horses and mules?" said Chris.
"We must try and find a hollow with some shrubby stuff that they canchew, poor beasts, for they'll get nothing else. What are you pointingat, squire?"
Ned made no answer, but sat fast where he had checked his pony, pointingto where hundreds, perhaps thousands, of heavy grey stones lay scatteredwidely about over the sandy slope.
"Well, I can see them; stones, looking as if a mountain had crumbled allaway in an earthquake, or in some volcanic explosion which had shatteredit all to pieces."
"No, no," said Ned huskily; "not there. More to the left. It is thattree I mean."
"Tree? There's no tree there."
"Yes, that great one that was turned over in the earthquake, and all ofthe trunk and top buried in the stones."
"I say, my lad," said Griggs anxiously, "has the heat been too much foryou?"
"Yes, it made my head ache."
"That's it, then. Made you fancy you can see a tree upside down."
"'Tisn't fancy," said Ned huskily. "I can see plain enough, but itisn't natural. It's all alive, and the roots are twisting and twiningabout as if the tree was alive and in pain."
"Here, don't stare at it. Shut your eyes for a bit, my lad. I'll takeyour mustang's rein."
"But I must look at it," cried Ned excitedly. "I can't help it.Horrid! Here, you two are not looking the right way."
"I'm looking at you, my lad," said Griggs kindly.
"And so are you, Chris. Don't--please don't. Look there; I want you tosee what it means."
"Ugh!" gasped Chris, as he turned his eyes in the direction pointed outby his companion, and that which he saw then was evidently seen now byhis nag, which started violently, and but for the tight hand the lad hadupon the rein it would have dashed off.
"Here, have you got it too?" cried Griggs. "There, sit still till thewater-kegs come up, and you must have a drink apiece. The sun has beentoo much for you, and--"
He said no more, but sat staring in one direction with his mouth wideopen and his eyes seeming ready to start out of his head.
"Hallo, here! hallo!" cried the doctor, cantering up, closely followedby Wilton and Bourne, leaving their position in the rear unguarded."What's the matter--the boys taken ill?"
"Snakes," cried Griggs hoarsely. "Look yonder."
Griggs' words were unnecessary, for the doctor's eyes had lighted uponthe extraordinary sight that had startled Ned into his wildannouncement.
The next moment his companions had grasped the phenomenon, and had hardwork to keep their mounts from dashing frantically away.
For about a hundred yards from them, half-hidden among the stones, wassomething which pretty well warranted Ned's comparison to a tree turnedwrong way up, so that only its roots were visible above the ground, theobject being, in fact, a monstrous knot of hundreds of snakes twinedtogether as if they were all engaged in the attempt to get their headsinto the centre of the tangled mass which, all in motion, heaved andsank and rolled from side to side, the lower portions of the serpents'bodies and their tails being free to lash and writhe about in the air,while at a second glance the spectators began to realise the fact thatall around, gliding in and out amongst the stones, were hundreds uponhundreds more of the reptiles, apparently urged on by some savageinstinct to form other knots, till the whole of the hollow in frontseemed to be alive with the loathsome creatures.
"Did you ever see anything like this before, Griggs?" said the doctor,who was the first to speak.
"Never, sir; but an old gold prospector once told me that he had seenjust such a sight, only I put it down to being a yarn told to cram me."
"But they're not poisonous--not rattlesnakes, surely?" said Bourne.
"They surely are," cried Wilton. "Hark! Can't you hear? It's like adull thrilling sound. Here, I don't want to be the first to run, but Ican't stand this; I'm off."
"We'd better all be off," cried the doctor. "Here, Griggs, head roundyour bell-mule and let's get away. You seem to have led us right intothe empire
of snakes. Quick, look alive, or the poor brutes will beright amongst the reptiles."
"Not they, sir; they smell 'em now. Come and help, or we shall have astampede."
The Peril Finders Page 11